I’m continuosly surprised by how many women on my Twitter feed have experienced unwarranted and unwanted harrassment in their Direct Messages (DMs) from guys who have instantly followed them back.
The guys are often suggestive, often crude, or asking sexually inappropriate questions and have a bizarre sense of entitlement, treating Twitter more like Tinder.
The results of their disturbing behaviours have been distressing and upsetting to these women who’s only intention is to join a social media platform and maybe make some new friends.
The women are often having to block or report these guys to warn others of their lewd antics.
The majority of people in my DMs are very friendly.
The weird guys either want me to invest in their Bitcoin schemes or are over polite Indian or African guys living in impoverished villages.
Despite living with extreme famine and pestilence and living in nothing more than a torn tent or mud hut, they seem to have amazing Wi-Fi internet connection and very active Twitter accounts and online banking facilities for your incoming donations.
After exchanging vacuous pleasantries, they soon ask you for money and it’s hard to know if their need is genuine or not.
The Beach Boys sang the praises of Californian Girls. Every girl from California who has DMd me has been equally disturbingly forward (as the men with the women) and seemingly want to bed me.
They constantly ask me for my hang out number. I have no idea what a hang out number is but when I was a teenager, it used to be a telephone box.
Is a phone “hang out” the back pocket of my jeans? Do they think I have an endless supply of burner phones like Jack Bauer?
Sometimes they’ll ask me for my “hang out place”.
How old do they think I am? What are they expecting me to say, McDonald’s? The Ice Rink? The Skate Park half-pipe?
I’ll assume my “hang out place” isn’t the urinals.
And how is this going to work? Are they really going to fly across the Atlantic from California to marry me and live in my ramshackle town? Or will they invite me out to Hollywood to live out my dreams?
Now, excuse me whilst I walk outside to get the number of my local telephone box.
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